


Lunch

by Saraste



Series: Femslash February 2016 [23]
Category: Asoiaf - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Margaery is naughty, School robes are handy, Shocking the rest of the school, lunching, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Margaery sits down next to Sansa at lunch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch

**Author's Note:**

> This is also set before Starcrossed in the same verse. All possible misplelling etc can be blamed on tiredness.

The first time that they eat lunch together, Margaery simply sets herself down next to Sansa, easy as you please.

 

Her fellow Gryffindors squeal a bit in alarm with this sixth year coming into their midst so suddenly. And a Slytherin at that.

 

A Tyrell!

 

Tyrell’s don’t sit with mere mortals such as them.  _ Never _ . It’s just not done. Sure, the Malfoy heir sits with the Potters but a Tyrell? Never. Yet there Margaery is, regal as a queen, holding court at the table with Sansa at her side acting as consort.

 

‘What’s for lunch?’ Margary croons into Sansa’s ear as she snuggles close to her, lips brushing softly against Sansa’s jawline, breath ghosting on an exposed neck.

 

‘Margaery!’ A blushing Sansa squeaks while a second-year Arya sniggers from a few seats down, and Robb and Jon holler at Sansa from Arya’s either side. In the Slytherin table, Loras facepalms.

 

‘What?’ Margaery queries, all innocent smiles all the while her hand is trying to sneak under Sansa’s skirt under the cover of the table. Her eyes are purity itself and her mouth slanted in her sweetly crooked smile.

 

Sansa kicks out, startled, and the whole table shakes.

 

‘Margaery!’ 

 

‘Is my name.’

 

All the others sitting around the pair are averting their eyes and nervous laughter is quickly smothered and blushing cheeks covered. Everyones plates suddenly seem to contain the secrets of the universe, or some such thing.

 

‘Ooh! Noodles with cashews!’ Margaery exclaims happily as she, too, looks down at her plate at last. ‘My favourite.’

 

Sansa admits defeat, there’s no budging of Margaery’s hand from her thigh, and it’s not like she dislikes it being where it is. Even though they’ve only been dating (sneaking around Hogwarts) for two weeks.

 

Eventually, though, Margaery actually takes her hand away, her fingers lingering on the uncovered skin between hem and knee as she does so sloooowly.

 

Sansa’s practically crimson by the end of it. Which also coincides with the end of the lunch hour.

  
  
  


They meander into the hallways beyond the great hall, hand in hand, Sansa still blushing fit to light a house on fire.

  
  


‘What’s your next class again?’ Margaery asks, as if she doesn’t know Sansa’s schedule by heart, idly tracing Sansa’s now jumping pulse with the pad o her thumb.

 

‘Herbolology with Longbottom, yours?’

 

‘DADA with Potter.’

 

‘Lucky.’ For Sansa doesn’t possess a green by by any stretch of the truth. 

 

‘See you after?’ Margaery asks, eyes alight with mischief.

 

‘Maybe,’ Sansa tries to feign indifference, not really succeeding in it.

 

‘You bad girl, you,’ Margaery giggled against her lips before giving Sansa a final kiss before they  _ really _ need to get going. 

 

‘

  
  



End file.
